


More Like Fight Day, Because If You Make Me Talk About My Feelings Any More I'll Bust Your Glasses

by MogmaMittens



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: 20/32 ignoct, Age Difference, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, i continue to be bad at tagging fics, ignis is smooth except not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 05:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13968459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MogmaMittens/pseuds/MogmaMittens
Summary: The recipe said they might turn out a little lumpy, anyway. So it was fine. Plus, it was like, three in the morning, because he couldn’t just go into the kitchens during thedayand risk Ignis - or Gladio, who would undeniably be curious aboutwhohe was making chocolates for the day before Valentine’s - finding him out. So he was tired, and hungry, and it was okay that his chocolates were lumpy becauseit’s not like he was good at cooking in the first place,jeez.





	More Like Fight Day, Because If You Make Me Talk About My Feelings Any More I'll Bust Your Glasses

**Author's Note:**

> my prompt fill for the ignoct white day exchange for [ej-art on tumblr!](http://www.ej-art.tumblr.com/) your prompts were so good and i mixed a few of em together to make this so i hope you like it!!

They’re… kind of ugly.

 

It’s not like they’re  _ horrible,  _ okay? They’re a little misshapen, and  _ maybe  _ Noct had to throw some away because they were too lumpy and looked more like dicks than he was comfortable giving to anyone, but they’re fine. They’re  _ okay.  _

 

The recipe said they might turn out a little lumpy, anyway. So it was fine. Plus, it was like, three in the morning, because he couldn’t just go into the kitchens during the  _ day  _ and risk Ignis - or Gladio, who would undeniably be curious about  _ who  _ he was making chocolates for the day before Valentine’s - finding him out. So he was tired, and hungry, and it was okay that his chocolates were lumpy because _ it’s not like he was good at cooking in the first place, _ jeez.

 

He wrapped them up in a plastic bag, snuck back up to his room, and wrapped them up as nicely as one could from a shitty internet tutorial in the wee hours of the morning. Which… was badly. But he  _ did  _ go out and get some cute, star themed wrapping paper for the occasion and he hoped Ignis didn’t think it was too weird.

 

This whole situation was weird, though, and he couldn’t hope for much, so maybe “not so offended he tells his dad, quits, and moves somewhere in rural Duscae and marries a roguish and dashing daemon hunter” was a better thing to hope for.

 

Noct had thought about this a lot. 

 

After staring at the box on his bed for an additional hour - four thirty, now, so Ignis would be up soon - he then proceeded to sneak down to his office (where he saw other glaive and various Citadel workers doing just the same) and put his on the top of the ever-growing pile.

 

Hm.

 

Maybe this wasn’t the  _ best  _ idea. New hiding spot. Somewhere  _ non-generic.  _ It had to stand out, or else…

 

Noct didn’t really know what he wanted out of this. He contemplated putting a note on it, cut out a piece of paper and scratched his name onto it with the first thing he could find. It wasn’t that important. He almost left it out. Maybe he just wanted Ignis to have something more special on Valentine’s Day.

 

Or  _ maybe  _ Noct wanted to be the dashing, rural Duscae daemon hunter. Either way.

 

There wasn’t anywhere to leave it in his office, really, unless he wanted to put it on a bookshelf or go up to his room and _somehow_ manage to get it in without Ignis waking up and immediately killing him, or something equally as dramatic and physically incredible. And if he didn’t wake up and cut his throat open, or whatever, he _would_ wake up later and think someone who wasn’t supposed to be in his room was there. Which would also be bad. Worse, debatably.

 

Ignis would be up soon, though, so if he didn’t find somewhere to hide it soon it would be less “cute, kind of romantic hiding place” and more “ _ drop it somewhere and get the fuck out.”  _

 

And then he noticed his drawers. Of course. He used them often enough that they wouldn’t go neglected, and putting something in there would be maybe just a little invasive, but not enough that he’d call the Crownsguard on him and then lead to Noct having to explain to half of the Glaive why he left a box of chocolates in Ignis’ desk. On Valentine’s Day.

 

Swiftly, he tried the locks until he found one that was open, placed it gently (it looked bad enough already) in an empty space in the front corner, and slid it closed. It looked like he kept his pens there, so he’d probably find it not soon after getting rid of all the other chocolates, which meant it would most definitely get his personal attention.

 

With the box hidden away safely, he rested a hand against the edge of his desk and leaned on it, letting himself relax  _ for once  _ since like, a week ago, when he’d decided to do this. 

 

Gods, he wasn’t even sure if he  _ wanted  _ Ignis’ personal attention.

 

Or, no, he did. Definitely. For a while now. He was just anxious, more about the public declaration. More public than he’d like it, at least. His preferred amount of publicity was “restrained in his head forever”, though, so that didn’t mean much.

 

His phone dinged; Ignis would be up in half an hour. Time to  _ go. _

 

* * *

 

It was like this every single Valentine’s Day. He would wake up bright and early, as always, get coffee, change out of his pajamas, and trudge down to his office where, inevitably, there would be a pile of chocolates.

 

A  _ pile. _

 

Not a few boxes, or even more than a few boxes. Ten would be acceptable, even. A whole heap. A myriad of different flavors, shapes, and textures. A mountain of empty, empty calories.

 

_ Every year. _

 

Often, he would bring a trash bag with him, even though he thought it cruel - he could do worse, like piling them on a table outside with a “take one” sign. He saw that once, a couple of years ago, and while Ignis wasn’t a romantic by any means (not with most people, at least) he wouldn’t do  _ that. _

 

But Gods, it was just  _ so much.  _ Ignis made it no secret he was single - or, rather, he didn’t flaunt off any significant other he may or may not have had - but he figured it wouldn’t be much different if he did. It didn’t used to be this bad when he was younger, but by the time he hit twenty it’d started to get bad, and by twenty five (when he’d started doing his hair differently, which had a bizarrely strong impact on the amount of chocolates and letters he’d gotten) it had plateaued at something completely unreasonable. Meaning, a good half of his desk was absolutely  _ covered,  _ some was spilling off, and he would eat a decent amount of it if it didn’t mean he’d get sick. 

 

More often than not, Noct would wander down a couple of hours later like a hungry, sugar-seeking knight in shining armor, see the bag of chocolates Ignis had neglected to take out, settle down on the floor, and dig in until  _ he  _ got sick and Ignis had to stop what he was doing to go tuck him back in to bed. At least, he reasoned, if Noct ate them they wouldn’t be going to waste, so he let it happen until he got sick, and then he’d throw the rest out.

 

As tradition dictated, he wrangled with the garbage bag until it opened enough for him to fill it, and then with one hand grabbed up two or three boxes, then dropped them inside. He could sweep them all off, but that would knock off everything else in the process, and those documents were more or less important than a bunch of chocolate. Plus, it would take up more time, and this took up enough time as it was.

 

With the last of the boxes up off the desk and floor, he sighed, dropped the bag, leaned forward and then rebounded back into his chair. He had paperwork to sign, meetings to attend, and breakfast to make whenever Noct felt like it was time to drag himself up out of bed. 

 

Hm.

 

One of his drawers was open, just slightly. It wasn’t anything more than office supplies, but with so many people going in and out of his office, he might as well check, make sure no one put anything dangerous in there (as though Citadel security wasn’t tight enough to dissuade anyone from bringing anything too dangerous on the premises, but paranoia was only bad until you’re right).

 

Carefully, he pulled the drawer open, and placed neatly in the corner was another box. It was poorly wrapped, and a little beaten up - like the person holding it was gripping it just a little too tightly.  _ That  _ was intriguing, more so than the other store bought or otherwise chocolates he’d gotten. He picked it up carefully, and guided by his curiosity, he disassembled the overly-tedious wrapping and flicked open the box.

 

Inside was four chocolates. They were misshapen, but looked fine otherwise, and he prodded one of them with a finger. This was the same kind of thing Noct would come up with, but there was no shortage of shoddy chefs in the Citadel. Assuming it was Noct would put his hopes too high.

 

They were glossy - well tempered, and given the coloring it was probably dark chocolate. Noct wouldn’t usually go for that. He picked one up and weighed it in his hand, then bit into it. It cracked off nicely, and tasted like… maybe espresso? When he swallowed he could taste raspberry on the back of his tongue and he hummed thoughtfully, popping the rest into his mouth. 

 

It was tasty, if clumsily made, and  _ definitely  _ reminiscent of something Noct would make for him. He licked his lips and closed the box, careful not to hurt the cardboard, and paused when he saw a paper half-stuck to the bottom. Gently, he started to peel it; it came off neatly in one piece, and he was met with Noct’s name, hardly legible, in ink from a mostly dead pen.

 

Of course, he had his suspicions - hopes, rather - but it was nice to have them validated.

 

He cleared his throat and tucked the package back into his desk like it was a particularly juicy secret, took a breath, and spent the rest of the morning only partially paying attention to what he was signing.

 

Noct never came down to eat the rest of the chocolate.

* * *

 

 

Ignis was… not in his office. Made sense, it was the middle of the day. There might’ve been a meeting, or maybe he was out somewhere.

 

But Noct was also hungry, and Prompto said he was busy today, so he didn’t have anyone to play games with. So here he was. Sitting. On his desk. Mostly because Ignis  _ hated  _ that, and that would teach him for disappearing in the middle of the day when Noct was bored and needed a player two. 

 

He sat there for a good twenty minutes until the door clicked open, and he watched while Ignis closed the door behind him with a hand on the crack to silence it, then turned, gasped, and promptly fumbled and almost dropped whatever was in his hands.

 

“Um.” Noct kicked his foot back and it knocked against the front of his desk, then watched as Ignis winced, sniffed, and then straightened out his shoulders. He crossed the room in three steps, looked Noct up and down, and raised an eyebrow.

 

“You know I hate when you do that.”

 

Noct grinned. “Yeah.” Ignis held out a box. It was sleek, white, and tied with a pink ribbon. Noct blanched. Is  _ that  _ what he was doing? Wrapping a gift? “What’s that?”

 

“Did you… forget the date.” Noct blinked, and then Ignis blinked, and then Noct took the box from his outstretched hands. “These are for you.”

 

It was chocolate. Four white chocolates, to be exact, with milk chocolate drizzled on top, and they were very,  _ very  _ heart shaped. Right. Right, it was White Day. A month after Noct left chocolates in Ignis’ office and then ignored him for a week. Or two. He figured he just didn’t see the nametag, or forgot, because he never brought it up, but then there was this. So maybe he figured it out.

 

“You, uh. You returning gifts this year?” His hands were shaking. Just a little. Just enough that he, too, almost dropped the box that Ignis gave him. For all it was worth, he  _ did  _ drop the ribbon, and it fell down onto the floor between them.

 

“No.” Here come the heart palpitations. “Only yours.”

 

“Oh.” His voice totally didn’t crack. That didn’t happen. Puberty ended years ago. “I. um.” Ignis was standing in between his knees. When did that happen? Was he already standing there, or did he move forward? 

 

Noct swallowed; with Ignis so close (and he really wasn’t any closer than before, he was just being dramatic, and he knew he was just being dramatic but it was still a  _ lot _ ) he could hardly focus, let alone on thanking him or trying the chocolates or  _ anything  _ but staring at him like a godsdamned dumbass. So, with very little in mind but “hey this is romantic, maybe?” he kissed him. As one does when the person you’ve had a crush on for a solid ten years gives you, and only you, heart shaped chocolates.

 

It was barely a touch, really. Nothing special, except when he  _ realized  _ he'd kissed him, he said, right into Ignis’ face, “oh fuck.” Well, he was pretty sure he did. Truth be told, he wasn't even sure he said anything coherent, just that something came out of his mouth along those lines at a time when  _ nothing  _ should have been coming out of his mouth.

 

Ignis stared at him for longer than he was strictly comfortable with, snorted, braced a hand on the desk beside him, and began to  _ crack up. _

 

That was not helpful. The opposite, actually, because that just made him panic more than feel at ease about the whole situation.

 

“Sorry! Sorry. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, Gods, what the hell, I,” Ignis was still laughing, “I mean that was totally just a friend thing, right? The chocolates, not the- the kissing. That's totally how you meant it? I mean it would be kinda weird if you didn't. Not to  _ me,  _ I mean, like, you're just way older than me and I don’t know why you would, uh, I mean, Gods, I’m, I’m so sorry, I totally didn’t mean it I mean it’s not like I have a thing for you, you know? It was just something I did. Kind of. You were just so close and I don’t know if you were trying to do that or not but you were looking at me and I was looking at you and then I did it and it was like? Whoooa? But then I realized and I was like  _ oh Gods,  _ because holy shit, like, I don’t know why I thought-”

 

Unbeknownst to Noct, Ignis stopped about halfway through his speech, spent the rest of it staring at him, and then took enough initiative to slide a hand into his hair and kiss him. Smart.  Or it would be, and Noct would have appreciated it a lot more, if only he didn’t completely short circuit until Ignis pulled away not a second later.

 

“Oh.” Noct wheezed, then licked his lips. “Okay.” 

 

“ _ Was _ that okay?” Ignis brushed his knuckles over Noct’s jaw and that really did  _ not  _ help the situation at hand. 

 

“Yup.” He sounded more like he’d just drank a cup of razor blades than been kissed, with the added side effect of a strong possibility of fainting. He really did feel dizzy, and his heart was racing; his blood pressure must’ve been through the roof.

 

“Okay enough that you’d let me do it again?” If Ignis sounded nervous Noct didn’t notice, but Noct also could hardly hear because his heart was beating so loudly, so trying to figure that out really did nothing for him.

 

“I... might die.”

 

Ignis furrowed his eyebrows, and Noct just kept on sweating, because his life was now reduced to him being a puddle of sweat at all times, apparently.

 

“Pardon?” His fingers twitched on Noct’s knee, and he didn’t even realize it was there until now but there it was. Sitting there.  _ Menacingly. _

 

“I might explode. Or set on fire. Collapse.” He shrugged, then startled when Ignis reached in between his hands to pluck a chocolate out of the box. “Um?”

 

“To clear things up, I didn’t mean  _ this,”  _ he held it up between two fingers, “platonically. Unless that was your intention?”

 

“No, I,” he laughed nervously, eyeing the chocolate in Ignis’ hand. “I meant it however you wanted it to be taken?”

 

“I see.” He sounded… not exactly incredulous, but maybe a little entertained by Noct’s floundering. Rude. “Open your mouth, then.”

 

“Um?” He would love to say he didn't like where this was going. “Like…?”

 

“Yes, Noct. Like the opposite of what you’re doing.” Ignis rolled his eyes, but wasted no time in putting the chocolate up to his lips, and it was just starting to melt when Noct opened up for him. Hesitantly, he bit into it, and it was _ good _ , as good as white chocolate could be anyway, and Noct retrospectively lamented his own ugly, probably bad chocolates.

 

Ignis’ thumb lingered on his lower lip, and Noct froze, sucking in a breath through his teeth. 

 

Then, Ignis frowned.

 

“It was supposed to smear on your face.”

 

They stared at each other for a long moment, and then Noct squawked, “what?!”

 

“It ruined my plan. I’m afraid I’ve run out of reasonable excuses.”

 

Noct knew where this was going. He wasn't stupid. But Ignis was also being  _ unbearably  _ cheesy and he  _ had  _ to play along. It… helped to break the ice, really, stopping all the seriousness and saying something dumb. It made his heart swell knowing that he could do something like that to make him more comfortable, and so  _ easily.  _

 

“Excuses…?” He drew out the word purposefully, and Ignis grinned.

 

“And there he is.” The hand on his chin roamed up to tuck a lock from his fringe behind his ear, and Ignis  _ knew _ he hated that, but he couldn't justify being mad right now. “I couldn't very well kiss you in good conscience with you a stuttering mess.”

 

“I… I’m not gonna stop doing that.” He did it right there. He wasn't going to stop being nervous. Ignis doing that made him feel even  _ more  _ like there were butterflies swarming up his throat, even, which was the absolute opposite of helpful. 

 

“Shame.” He took a step back and on impulse, Noct reached out lightning-fast and fisted his hand in Ignis’ shirt. 

 

“I didn’t say I didn’t  _ want  _ you to,” Noct said, a little more desperately than he’d hoped for it to come out. Scooting forward until his feet were on the ground, he put the box of chocolates down on his desk and smoothed out the fabric of Ignis’ shirt. He kept his hand there and inhaled, kept it in just enough to stabilize himself, and took his time on the exhale. He still had a problem looking Ignis in the eyes, but they were going one step at a time. “I do. Want you to.”

 

“Then how about,” He put a hand over Noct’s, and the other on his side - they were hot, or maybe Noct just thought they were hot, and Noct would’ve startled away from them if he weren’t expecting it. “You go put on some real clothes, and we go get dinner?”

 

“Real clothes?” He looked down, and shrunk down at the realization he was wearing little more than sweatpants and a t-shirt. “Oh.” Wait. Wait, wait, wait.  _ Dinner?  _ “Like... a date?”

 

“Yes, Noct. A date.” He squeezed his hip, “Unless you want me to mean it  _ platonically.” _

 

“Shut  _ up.”  _ He pushed out against Ignis’ chest, and they both laughed.That made him feel a little better. “Give me, like, an hour, okay?”

 

“Noct, I would wait a thousand years for you.”

 

“You know what. I changed my mind.” He scoffed, sidestepped around Ignis, turned to walk away and yelped when Ignis refused to release his hand. Instead, he brought it up to his mouth, and kissed the base of his palm. “ _ Ignis. _ ”

 

“Yes, your highness?” He could feel him smiling against his hand.

 

“I will kill you.”

 

“Oh,  _ please.  _ It would be an honor. See you in an hour?”

 

Noct rolled his eyes, “I  _ guess,  _ when you put it like  _ that. _ ” Ignis looked reluctant to drop his hand, but did, and Noct retreated to the door to hopefully escape before he could be subjected to anything else  _ too  _ corny. It didn’t stop him from tripping over his own feet on the way, but that was neither here nor there.

 

“I’ll be counting the seconds.” Why. Why was he like this. No one person should be capable of being this mushy. It just wasn’t fair. He leaned up against the door, hand on the knob, and couldn’t help beaming at him, even if he was saying the stupidest, sappiest shit possible.

 

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

 

“ _ Please. _ ”


End file.
